


Time For Change

by charmingoutlaws (twdsunshine)



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 07:58:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15238908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/charmingoutlaws
Summary: The reader has a point to prove to Jax when he shoots down her request to allow women to join the MC.





	Time For Change

‘Well, well, well,’ you drawled, sidling up to the bike that was parked up outside the MC clubhouse and leaning back against the seat, smirking at the rider that had just dismounted and was unclipping his helmet. ‘Jax Teller.  What brings you to our neck of the woods?’

'Got a meeting with your dad.’ He ran a hand through his dirty-blonde hair, slicking it back into place, before reaching for you and pulling you into a tight embrace.  'How’re you doing, Y/N?  You’re looking good.’

'I am good.’ You raised an eyebrow at him, falling into step beside him as he made his way round to the front entrance.  'What do you need to talk to daddy about?’

'Club business.’ Jax shut you down quickly.  You’d known him since you were a kid.  Your fathers had been best friends until old JT had died in a road accident years back, and you’d spent a lot of summers together, either here or up at the cabin in Charming, messing about on old dirt bikes in the woods.  But as you’d gotten older, things had changed.  Jax had joined the local charter, started working his way up the ranks, an easy task as a legacy, whereas you’d found yourself distanced from your old friend.  There were no girls in the MC, only sweet butts and old ladies to entertain and satisfy the men, and it had become a source of friction between you.

Your daddy was the president of his charter now and, though you were still close, he consciously separated you from anything to do with the club which dominated his life a little more every day.  More often than not, these days you found yourself riding alone.

'You know, at some point you’re gonna wake up and realise you don’t need a dick to ride a damn motorcycle,’ you challenged Jax as he swung open the door of the bar and stepped inside with you hot on his heels.

'It’s about more than that, darlin’, and you know it.’

'What then?’  You weren’t about to let this drop.  Jax was the President of SAMCRO, the Redwood Originals, and as such had a huge amount of sway over club policy.  Talking his ear off was a rare but valuable opportunity.  'Running guns?  Drug muling?’

Jax shot you an icy glare, but you knew there was no one around to hear your revelations about the MC’s less than kosher earning activities.  'I can shoot better than you can, and I can ride a hell of a lot better too.  Why do you shut me down on this every time we talk, Jax?’

‘’Cause it’s all you ever talk about, Y/N.’  He stopped, turning to face you and reaching out to ruffle your hair which had you stepping backwards and wrinkling your nose in distaste.  'Sure is good to see you though.’

And then he was rapping his knuckles against the door of the chapel and disappearing inside where he knew you couldn’t follow.

 

* * *

 

'You still sulking?’ Jax stood over you where you sat on the couch in the corner of the bar, letting the noise and chaos of the party fade into the background as you nursed the glass of whiskey in your hand.  He dropped down beside you, taking a swig from his bottle of beer, before nudging you with his elbow.  'C'mon, darlin’, I haven’t seen you in months and I’m only here for one night.  You really gonna spend the whole time pissed at me?’

'Maybe,’ you grumbled, though the grin on his face was contagious and you couldn’t stop your mouth from quirking upward.  'You’re an ass, Jackson. Anyone ever tell you that?’

'More than once.’

'Good.’  He stretched his arm out along the back of the couch, and you inched closer to him so you could talk more easily over the music that was pouring out of the stereo across the room.  'So, how’re things?’

'Messy.’  He shrugged, his smile slipping just a little as his eyes flicked between the men he’d brought with him from the South.  'Seems like whatever I do these days gets someone hurt or killed.’

'Is that why you’re here?  For back-up?’

Again, it was like a shutter had slipped into place, and all you got in response was, 'It’s just business, Y/N.  How’re things with you, anyway?  What are you doing with yourself these days?’

'Honestly, not a whole lot.’  You sunk lower in your seat, kicking your legs up onto the coffee table and taking a sip from the tumbler in your hand.  'There’s nothing here for me, Jax.  There’s no work in this town, but I can’t afford to move away.  Plus, I wouldn’t wanna leave Daddy on his own, but then I never see him these days anyway…’  You tailed off, realising how pathetic your sob story sounded.  'I just feel like I have nothing.’

He was watching you, considering your words carefully.  'That why you’ve been bending my ear about letting women in the MC so much recently?’

You thought that was rich.  You’d only seen him maybe three times in the past year, but you supposed it had been the main topic of conversation on each of those occasions.  'It’s the only thing I’m good at.  Bikes, riding, doing the books for the club.  It’s like, I’m allowed to be around when I can be of use, but otherwise… I’m just not good enough.  You have no idea how frustrating it is!’

'I get what you’re saying, sweetheart.’  You shot him a disbelieving look, and he laughed.  'I do.  But you know what the MC’s tangled up in, the kind of people we do business with daily.  It’s more than just knowing how to ride and being able to shoot straight.  You have to be… dangerous, Y/N. People have to know that they can’t cross you 'cause otherwise you’re looking at a bloody power struggle.  I guess, women just don’t have it in them to be that hard.’

You opened your mouth to argue, but the look on his face told you that the subject was closed, so instead you took another sip from your glass, finishing the amber liquid and relishing in the burn as it slipped down your throat.  Turning to Jax, you pulled his attention away from the small scuffle that had broken out over one of the more desirable sweet mamas who was being a little too free in her affections.  'You wanna get out of here?’

He nodded, and you took his hand, leading him out of the bar and around the back to the long outbuilding that housed the club apartments.  You knew they were all vacant at the moment, most of the members shacked up in their own homes with their families, but you still kept the beds made up in case anyone got too wasted and needed a place to crash.

Unlocking the door nearest to you, you motioned for Jax to step inside, following him in and letting it click shut behind you.

'Nice place,’ he observed, giving it a once-over, before snagging another beer from the fridge and collapsing on the bed.  'I don’t think I’ve ever seen these rooms before.’

'You wouldn’t have,’ you snarked, pulling a face at him.  'Last time you were here, you fucked Honey on the pool table if I remember rightly.’

You’d found him spread out beneath her the following morning, snoring like a damn freight train.  It was an image that had stayed with you.

'Ahh, yeah.’  He was smiling fondly at the memory.  'I guess you’re right.  How is Honey?  I’ll have to stop by and say hi while I’m in town.’

'Got a job as a hooker for the Mayans.  Said she couldn’t turn down the money. Needless to say, she doesn’t come round here anymore.’

'No shit.’  Jax nodded, though you could see the judgement in his eyes.  'And you told me there were no jobs in town.’

'I’m no-one’s whore.’

'Fair enough.’  He sat up, placing his bottle on the bedside table, before climbing to his feet and stalking across the room towards you.  'So, why did you bring me out here exactly?’

You knew where this was going.  You’d felt the shift in the outlaw’s demeanour as soon as he’d seen where you were taking him, the heat in his gaze, the subtle way his hand had grazed over your hip as he’d moved past you at the door.  Your friend’s biggest flaw was his belief that he truly was God’s gift to women, but who could really blame him?  That reaper on his back and his ridiculous good looks had pretty much guaranteed that he was never short of offers.

He’d taken your virginity back when you were 16, but you’d only been together a handful of times since then, whenever you were both unattached or just had too much to drink.  It had never become anything more serious due to the distance and a shared awareness that you didn’t want to ruin your friendship by trying to force it to become something else.

Now though, Jax was watching you like a lion eyeing its prey and you swallowed hard, trying to suppress the butterflies that had sprung up in your stomach.  'I thought we could watch a movie or-’

'Or?’  He was moving closer, forcing you to retreat until your back hit the wall, and then his hands came to rest either side of your head, boxing you in.

'It’s been a while,’ you admitted, glancing down at your feet, before meeting his gaze again, catching your bottom lip between your teeth.  'I just thought…’

His mouth was on yours before you finished, devouring you with greedy kisses that sent a spike of heat coursing through your veins, warming your body as his hands slid down to your hips.  He lifted you to give himself better access to your neck as his lips travelled down to your collarbone, catching the backs of your thighs when you wrapped your legs around him.

You pushed yourself off from the wall, sending Jax stumbling backwards, throwing off his balance so that he fell back onto the bed with you on top of him.  That was better.  You needed the control that gave you, and you tugged on his shirt to encourage him to move up the mattress further, kissing down his body as you revealed inch after inch of tanned skin.  It may have been a while, but you could still remember all of Jax’s buttons: where to kiss to make him squeeze his eyes shut, where to stroke to elicit a strangled hiss from between his gritted teeth.

His hands were on your hips again, dragging you down on to him to get the friction you both needed as you nibbled on his collarbone, causing him to groan your name, oblivious to your distraction as you fumbled blindly in the top drawer of the bedside table for what you needed.

And then you were running your fingers along the length of his arms, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch as you brought his wrists up over his head and snapped the handcuffs into place around the metal poles of the headboard.

'What the…’  It took Jax a moment to realise what you’d done, and then another few seconds to realise that this wasn’t some kind of kinky game, as you climbed off of him and rehooked your bra.  'Y/N, what the hell?’

You smirked at him, taking in his naked form as he writhed against the sheets.  'Well, you see, Jax, I might not be able to floor you with a punch or beat you down to prove a point…’

You turned your back on him, flouncing into the bathroom and rummaging in the medicine cabinet, hoping you’d find a lipstick in there somewhere.  Coming up trumps, you returned to find him glaring at you, having given up on his attempts to break free.  'So, what?  You’re strapping me down to give me a beating?’

'No, I’m strapping you down to show that it doesn’t take always take physical strength to get the upper hand in a situation.’  You climbed on top of him again, positioning yourself on his legs to keep him still.  He bucked against you a couple of times, but you knew he wouldn’t want to hurt you, and he quickly resigned himself to his fate.  'Now, I expect you’re gonna wanna take this to the chapel, and then it’ll go to a vote, but I just know I’ll have your full backing now, Teller.’

You unscrewed the cap on the lipstick, satisfied to find it was a vibrant rouge, then leant forward and began to mark out the letters on the tense muscles of his stomach.

##  _JT 4 WOMEN  
__I_ _N THE  
__MC_

You leant back to admire your handiwork, nodding in satisfaction that it was easily readable despite his fidgeting. 'If nothing else, it’ll get people talking, right?  And that’s the first step.’

Sliding off of the bed again, you stepped in front of the mirror, straightening your clothing and combing through your hair with your fingers, before slicking on the lipstick still clutched in your hand and returning to your victim to press a sloppy kiss to his lips, leaving your mark on him.

'This isn’t funny,’ he snarled.  'You’re gonna pay for this!’

You were moving around the room, gathering up his clothes - minus his kutte, of course - before carrying the whole lot back into the bathroom and dumping them in the shower tray, turning the spray on full and watching as they became saturated.  You left the water running.  Wouldn’t want it all drying out before he was found.

He was fighting against the cuffs again when you stepped back into the room, and you had to suppress the laugh that was bubbling up inside you, keeping your face stern as you gave him one last once-over before heading for the exit.

'You should remember this, Jax, the next time you try telling anyone that women can’t be dangerous.’

You left the door open, flapping in the breeze as you walked away, climbing onto your bike with a warm satisfaction in your belly.  It was time for change.


End file.
